Two weeks later, on a chilly early autumn day, Rachel and I drove Alice back to Vermont.

The drive up was a blast, the girls playing all their favorite songs on the little portable cassette player that Rachel had brought, signing along so loud that the music was mostly completely drowned out--"They've all come, to look for America...!!!" "All along the watchtower...!!"

After three hours of this, they'd worn out their voices, and worn themselves out, too, and they settled down and snuggled up to each other as they sat next to me in the front seat. They looked like angels to me, and I began to feel the hole in my heart that would soon be all too real, when we'd dropped off Alice and she would no longer be a part of Rachel's life, nor of mine.

She insisted, when we got to her house, that we come inside to meet her mother. Mrs. Durrant was a fine looking woman, I must say. Around my age, with echos of her daughter's small frame and auburn hair. One could see a glimpse of what Alice might look like in twenty years, and it was a fine sight indeed. Alice introduced us as her "best friends," and effused to her mom about how I owned a hotel in the Catskills.

"Oh!" Mrs. Durrant exclaimed, "that must be a lot of work!" I got the impression that she might be flirting. And I can't say that I disliked that thought, although I tried not to reciprocate too obviously, for fear of tainting Alice's and my last day together.

After a cup of coffee, I sadly announced that Rachel and I had to go, since it was another five hours drive back to the Manor, and as it was we wouldn't get back before sundown. Mrs. Durrant said an affectionate goodbye, and Alice walked us out to the car. There were many kisses and hugs goodbye, plenty of tears from the girls and even a few from me, and even more promises to keep in touch, and to see each other again soon. The sort of promises that, in my experience, are usually not kept.

The drive back was a stark contrast to the one coming out. Rachel cried at first, sitting hard against the passenger-side door and looking out the window at the rain that had began to fall, making no response whatsoever to my attempt to comfort her with a hand on her knee. Once the tears eventually stopped, she went silent, then fell asleep.

It felt to me like the end of a wonderful chapter in my life: The "Hitchhiker" chapter.

But it was more than that, although I hadn't quite realized it yet. It was the end of an era. The entire story of the Hillcroft Manor hippy commune was coming to a close. Richter left for Berkeley a few days after Alice's departure, and with him, so went the purpose, even the very life-blood, of the commune. He was more than just the chemist (and besides, he left enough acid to trip an entire division of the Army for a year)--he was the spiritual leader, the guru, the shaman. And in his absence, the hippies began to dissipate, by ones and twos and threes, leaving behind the Manor for warmer winter climes. California dreamin'.

And so by the end of September, the long hairs were gone, and all the remained of the Summer of Love in the Catskills was me, Emily and Rachel, and the great big Hillcroft Manor.

With Em working at the library, and Rachel in school, I had a lot of time on my hands, and I decided to fix the place up with the goal of running it as a hotel again. A Grand Reopening in the spring seemed like a good idea. This kept me quite busy; hippies are difficult housemates even on their best behavior, and you could hardly claim any of them behaved particularly well. There was little by way of structural damage; an occasional attempt at redecorating with catastrophic results. Mostly, it was just painting. Lots and lots of paint required to cover up day-glo spray paint all over the whole house.

In the midst of this, on one sunny cold autumn morning in October, with both of the ladies off at their appointed tasks, I got a phone call.

"Brian?" the voice on the other end said. My heart leapt into my throat. This wasn't the first time that Alice had called, she'd kept her promise to keep in touch, at least a little bit. But this was different--she never called when Rachel wouldn't be home. She seemed to mostly call to talk to Rachel, not me. And more concerning still, her voice sounded strange. I knew, the instant I heard her say my name, that something was wrong.

"Hey, sweetie," I said. "What's up?"

The response on the other end of the line was a sob.

"Sweetheart," I said gently, "what's wrong?"

Alice gained her composure after a bit. "I'm... I'm at the doctor's. I'm... I'm pregnant." More sobbing, then, "I don't know what to do! I'm so scared!"

"Alice, baby, princess," I said softly, not really responding, just wanting to comfort her.

"Brian, I know..." she sobbed, losing what little composure she'd gained. "I know it's..."

"Baby, it's okay..." I answered. "Look..."

"I know I had sex with lots of guys," she said. "I even had sex with a couple guys here. But... But I always made them wear condoms. You're the only one that ever--"

"Sweetheart," I said, "I understand. I'm gonna come up there, okay? I'm gonna leave right now. We can talk when I get there, okay? Everything's going to be fine."

"You don't have to, Brian. I'll... I'll be okay. I'll figure it out. I just didn't know who to call. Maybe my mom--"

"No, baby, I'm coming up there. We're in this together."

"Really? You mean it?"

"Of course I do, Alice. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay."

I scribbled a quick note to Emily and Rachel--"I've gone to see Alice, she needs some help. I'll be back tomorrow. Love you!"--and I left for the five hour drive to Alice's school.

I had a lot of time to think along the way, winding through the mountain roads, and eventually I began to see things clearly. Very, very clearly.

Alice met me at a bar near campus that afternoon, and she literally burst into tears when she walked through the door. "What am I going to do?" she sobbed as I held her in a tight embrace. "I guess... I guess I can give it up for adoption?" she answered herself, though with a question, as we sat down. She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Maybe I can go home and... Oh god my mom is going to be so pissed at me!"

"Alice..." I said.

"Don't worry, she won't be mad at you. I won't tell her it was you."

I slid from my chair, down onto one knee next to the table. "Alice Durrant, will you marry me?" I said.

Her eyes just went wide.

"I know it's crazy," I said. "I know it's... 'square.' But, just think about it for a second, okay?" I was begging now. "I'm totally in love with you. I've missed you so bad since you left, both me and Rachel miss you so bad..."

Feeling embarrassed and chagrined, with Alice just sitting there wide-eyed and everyone in the damned bar staring at me, staring at the crazy old fart on his knee proposing to a girl more than half his age, a girl who was barely more than a child, I knew I'd eventually have to stand up. I hadn't planned for this in my very, very clear thinking an hour ago.

"Just think about it, okay?" I said, as I slumped back into my chair, flushing hot. "You don't have to decide now. You can finish out the semester here, and then come to the Manor to have the baby, and transfer to a school down there. We don't have to get married, that's just silly," I was babbling now."But I can take care of the baby while you're in school, and Em and Rachel too, and..."

Suddenly I noticed that Alice was crying. Tears were just flowing freely down her cheeks. "I don't need to think about it, Brian," she said.

"You don't? But..." My only thought was that she was just going to reject me as quickly as she could.

Through the tears, a little smile formed, and she slid a diminutive hand across the table and set it on top of mine. "I've missed you so much," she said, her voice cracking. "I told you I had sex with a couple guys here, just, just, I was just trying to forget about you. But it didn't work. It just made me miss you more."

"So," I said, hardly able to hope, "yes?"

"Yes!" Alice was still crying, but her face was lit in an enormous, shining-eyed smile. "I don't want to finish the semester here. I want to go home with you right now. Let's just go, right now!"

"What about your stuff?"

"I can pack really quick. I don't really have much."

"It's late already, and I already rented a hotel room. How about we go out for a nice dinner? To celebrate? And then we pack up your stuff and leave in the morning."

"I just want to leave now!" she said. "I'm just, I miss you guys so much! But I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am," I said with a grin.

She gave me something of a glare in response. "I'm staying at the hotel with you tonight, though!" she declared.

"Of course!"

"I should probably call my mom, too. I should tell her what's going on."

"Yeah, I suppose you should. We can go check into to the hotel now, and you call her, and then we'll go to dinner."

The man working the front desk at the hotel raised his eyebrows suspiciously when Alice signed in as my wife. I'm more than twice her age as it is, but she looked like she's thirteen, and to make matters more suspicious, she had no luggage, not even a backpack, and the fact that she giggled at his look didn't help matters much.

In our hotel room, Alice sat down on the bed and lifted the phone off of the receiver. She took a deep, nervous breath, smiled warily at me, and then dialed her mom's number.

"Hi, Mom, it's Alice," she said, pausing for a moment as the phone squawked her mom's greeting. "I have some really exciting news! I'm getting married!"

The squawking increased dramatically.

"Yeah, you met him," Alice answered. "It's Brian, remember? The guy who gave me a ride home from New York a couple weeks ago?" The indeterminate squawking increased even further. "Mom, no, listen..." The squawking did not stop, and I was able to make out a couple of the words that her mother was saying on the other end of the line: "...too old for you..." "...my little daughter..."

"Mom!" she said loudly, forcefully. "I'm pregnant!"

That brought the squawking to a sudden end. The silence was more dramatic than the hollering before.

Eventually, her mother must have started talking about, although in a much calmer voice, because Alice gave me an eye-roll before saying into the phone, "I know, Mom, but I already decided. He asked me today, and I said yes, and I'm not gonna change my mind." She gave me another eye-roll, then lowered the receiver. "She wants to talk to you now," she said.

I gave her an exaggerated nervous look, pretending to chew my nails. She giggled as I took the phone from her.

"Hello, Mrs. Durrant, " I said into the phone.

"So... you got my baby girl pregnant." This was followed by a heavy sigh.

"Um..."

Another heavy sigh, and then Alice's mother continued, "You don't have to marry her. I can take care of her. You don't need to be involved at all."

"I understand, Mrs. Durrant, but I'll treat her well, I promise. She's still going to go to school, school is very important to me. I'll take care of her, I promise."

"You seem like a nice man, Brian, but..."

"Thank you, Mrs. Durrant."

The next sound was more like a snort than a sigh. "I guess you should call me Susan, if I'm going to be your 'mother-in-law.'"

"Right. Susan."

"I really don't think Alice should get married. I think she's too young to get married. But it sounds like she's already made up her mind."

"Yeah, I think so."

"Well, I guess you have my blessing then. What choice do I have?"

"Thank you, Mrs.-- Thank you, Susan."

"Can I say goodbye to my daughter now?"

I handed the phone to Alice. "Hi Mom... I love you, too! We're gonna go out for dinner tonight, to celebrate, so I gotta go. Goodnight!" She hung up the phone, then looked at me. "Well, that went better than I thought."

"Really? She seemed unhappy to me."

"She thinks you're too old for me."

"I suppose she's right about that."

"No she's not," Alice sat back on the bed with her arms crossed and a pouting lip. "You're perfect for me!"

"You're perfect for me, too! Now, should we go to dinner?"

"Yes!"

"I'm pretty sure I know when it happened," Alice told me, after she'd slurped a few spaghetti noodles into her mouth.

"When what happened?"

She gave me an exasperated look. "When I got pregnant! Duh!"

"Oh, yeah." I put a bite of salmon in my mouth.

"Yes, Daddy. What do you think I would be talking about?"

"Mgghmgmuh," I mumbled exaggeratedly through my food, which caused Alice to giggle.

"It was the first time that Rachel was with us, the night that her parents were out. You remember?"

"Yes, I remember that day quite well."

Alice grinned. "That's 'cause you took her cherry that afternoon."

"Oh, did I? Was it that day?" I said, which made the girl giggle some more. "So why do you think it was then?"

"I don't know, I just... It's hard to know, really, because you came in me a lot, all summer..."

I nodded sheepishly.

"But that time felt different."

"Different? How?"

"I don't know, just... Well, it was very spiritual, with Rachel there with us."

"You sound like Richter," i said, with a hint of tease.

"Daddy! I'm serious. It was more than just sex. It was... It was love. But anyway, that's not actually why I think it was that night, really. It was the next day that felt different. Like things were changing inside me. Is that silly?"

"No, not at all. People are usually really in tune with changes to their body."

"I thought it was just because I was so happy," she continued, "and, you know, in love and stuff. But now I think it's because I got pregnant that night. And that's right around when the doctor said he thinks it happened. Mid August."

"It sounds likely," I said.

"Do you think I should tell Rachel that it happened that night?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't you?"

"I'm just worried."

"About what?" I asked her.

"That she's not gonna be happy about all this."

"Really?" I was surprised that Alice was worried about that. "Of course she'll be happy!"

Alice looked at me for a second, a fork with spaghetti twirled around it suspended in the air. "Daddy," she said, with a slight shake of her head, "sometimes I'm amazed at how little you understand about girls."

"Huh?"

"You're her boyfriend. She's not gonna be happy that you're getting married."

"That's..." I paused. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Of course you didn't. Guys take girls for granted."

I felt a little stung by that comment. "I do not," I said with matter-of-fact defensiveness.

I think Alice realized that she'd offended me a little. "I don't mean it that way," she quickly said. "I just mean, sex is different for guys. It doesn't mean the same thing to you."

"But you don't care if guys are married. You didn't care that John's married."

Alice paused, like she was thinking of a particular response, but then chose otherwise. "Mr. Richter's not my boyfriend. That's the difference, see?" I suppose I seemed confused, because she gave me a look. "All I'm saying is, things have changed. So don't take her for granted, okay?"

I nodded, my mouth full of mashed potatoes.

"And also, don't you think Rachel's gotten used to having you all to herself? I've been gone for almost two months."

"No, I don't think that at all. I promise I'm won't take her for granted, and I can kind of get where you're coming from with that, but I think you're overreacting. Rachel misses you like crazy. She says so all the time."

"Maybe I'm overreacting a little bit," Alice conceded.

"I think so. I mean, you have a good point about the boyfriend thing. I'll make sure to play it cool with her."

"Yeah, I'm still right, even if I'm kinda overreacting."

"You're definitely right, too."

Alice gave a sweet smile, like, our first argument as a "married couple" had ended with a nice compromise! But then the smile turned mischievous, and she leaned forward and said in a quieter tone, "Did you guys have lots of sex while I was gone?"

I shrugged my shoulders noncommittally.

"I thought about you two all the time. Even when I was having sex with those other guys, I was thinking about you and Rachel."

"We thought about you constantly, too."

She smiled. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"About you and Rachel, about what you've done while I've been gone."

"Rachel's in school, and I've been painting the Manor..."

"Daddy!!! Not that. I mean..." she leaned forward again. "I mean sex!"

I looked around, to make sure that the waiter wasn't nearby. "Well, she gets home from school before Emily gets home from work..."

"So you guys have sex before her mom gets home?" She gave an excited grin.

"Shh!" I admonished her, and she grinned bigger. I answered with a half-whisper. "We did at first, but there's not really enough time. We almost got caught once, so--"

"Ooo, exciting! Tell me what happened!"

"Well, we were in Rachel's room, and, well, you know..."

"Fucking!"

"Well, that might have been what we were doing, yes. We got dressed really quick, we were really scared, because we could hear Emily running up the stairs."

"Wow! Do you think she thought something was up?"

"No, it turned out she wasn't coming up to Rachel's room at all. She was just going to her room to change out of her work clothes. But we were sure scared! And then she stopped by Rachel's room to say 'hi' and we had to act all nonchalant, even though we'd just been having sex five minutes earlier."

Alice giggled. "I know the feeling! So since then, you guys don't get to have sex very much?"

"The library's open till nine a couple nights a week, and Emily usually works at least one of those shifts--"

"Then you have enough time!"

"Yes, we do."

"Nice! So, tell me Daddy, on the days you don't have enough time to fuck, does Rachel give you a blow job anyway?"

I smiled. "Sometimes."

"Has she figured out how to do it fast, so you don't get caught?"

I nodded, smiling some more. "She had a really good teacher. The best."

Alice grinned, proud. "Thank you, Daddy." Right then, the waiter interrupted our conversation to clear our dishes and give me the bill. Alice giggled when he looked meaningful at her, having overheard her call me "Daddy," so of course she repeated it for his amusement.

"So, Daddy..." she said, grinning conspiratorially at the waiter's reaction, "what do you think about having sex with a girl who's pregnant?"

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For the next chapter in this story, see Chapter Fifteen: Alice's Theory of Masochism.

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